New Artist
by facist
Summary: Has Franco developed a new infatuation?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Kelly's was filling up with patrons just as Michael and Kristina finished their dinner. The waitress brought their check to the table. "Hey, I got it," said Michael as Kristina reached into her purse.

"Are you sure?" Kristina asked, withdrawing her hand.

"Of course. What are big brothers for?" Michael pulled out some cash and placed it on top of the bill.

"At least let me pay for the movie then. By the way," said Kristina, suddenly looking uneasy. "I invited someone to come with us."

"Who?" Michael asked.

As if on cue, the door to Kelly's opened and Keifer sauntered in. He spotted the Corinthos and approached their table. "Hey," he said, sitting down beside Kristina and kissing her on the cheek. He glanced at Michael but didn't acknowledge his presence. "Babe, we better get going or else we'll be late for that movie."

"Yeah, you guys better get going or else you won't get good seats," Michael said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Don't say that and act like you're not coming," said Kristina. "We had been planning to see this movie together for months, ever since we saw the trailer."

"Your brother is a big boy and can make his own decisions," said Keifer, putting his arm around Kristina's shoulders. "If he doesn't want to come with us, then I don't see how we can force him."

"Yeah. And I just remembered that I promised Morgan I would take him to see the movie so you guys go ahead," Michael tried to convince Kristina. "I think I'm going to head home anyways. I'm pretty tired."

Keifer tugged on Kristina's hand. "Come on. Let's go."

"Will you alright getting home?" Kristina asked, standing up.

"Yes, mom, I'll be fine," said Michael, sounding annoyed.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Kristina said as Keifer dragged her out of the diner.

Michael sighed. He thanked the waitress as she came by and scooped up the bill, put on his coat, and went outside. It had snowed during dinner but the skies were now a clear inky black.

He started his car and waited for the engine to warm up. He sighed. His Friday night plans were ruined but he didn't feel like going home just yet. Since his father had taken away the keys to his car, he had to beg his mother to allow him to take hers and he didn't know if another opportunity would come anytime soon. He also didn't feel like explaining to his mother and Jax why he wasn't at the movies.

Michael pulled away from Kelly's, heading nowhere in particular. He took roads that he had never heard of before, turned when he felt like turning. He didn't worry about getting lost since he had a GPS navigator that would lead him home when he was ready.

He found himself outside of Port Charles, driving down empty roads. Tall trees thickly lined the sides like rail guards and he could only see what his headlights illuminated in front of him. Michael felt free for the first time in a long time. He tried flipping through the radio stations but he didn't receive much of a signal and he eventually gave up, giving into the silence.

The steering wheel jerked in his hands and the entire car rumbled. It happened again a few seconds later. Concerned, Michael pulled the car over onto the side of the road. He got out of the car and immediately identified the problem. The back left tire was riding significantly lower than the other three wheels.

He got back into the driver's seat, turned off the ignition, pulled the parking breaking, and turned on the emergency lights. He considered calling his mother for a minute but decided against it. She would insist on sending someone to help him and Michael wanted to prove that he could do something right, even if it was only changing a flat tire.

Michael got out again and opened the trunk. He began searching for the wrench that would loosen the lug nuts but could hardly see anything because of the dark. He used the light of his cell phone screen to aid in his search.

"Come on," he hissed. His hands swept the corners of the trunk and still, he felt nothing. His frustration prevented him from noticing that another vehicle was approaching until it had pulled over behind him.

Michael turned, shielding his eyes from the bright headlights. He heard someone get out of the car and approach him.

"Need a hand?" the person asked, getting closer.

"No, I'm alright," said Michael. He wanted to tell his mother that he had changed the tire all by himself.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "It never hurts to have a second pair of hands around."

"Actually…" Michael hesitated for a moment but asked anyways. "Do you have something so that I can loosen the lug nuts?"

"Yeah, sure." The Samaritan turned around and walked towards his car.

Michael followed and out of the glare of the headlight, he was able to see his face. He appeared to be a normal guy, not a mob enforcer, who tended to have a certain look about them. Michael relaxed a little.

"Here you go," he said, handing Michael a wrench.

"Thanks. I'll try to be quick." Michael had no sooner turned around to go back to his mother's car when a strong arm suddenly wrapped around his throat and pulled him backwards.

A cloth was pressed down over his mouth and nose, muffling his shout of surprise. He jabbed his elbow back and heard his attacker grunt in pain but it wasn't enough for him to loosen his grip. Michael grew weaker the harder he fought. His eyelids became heavier and heavier until they fluttered closed despite his best efforts to stay awake. The last thing he remembered was the snow starting to fall.

*

Carly snapped her phone shut after her call went to Michael's voicemail for the fifth time. "Am I crazy?" she asked Jax. "I know it's not unusual for teenagers to come home a little late on a Friday night but he was supposed to be home thirty minutes ago."

"Maybe he decided to stay with a friend," said Jax.

"Maybe," Carly replied but she didn't sound too convinced. "But that doesn't explain nor excuse why he hasn't called yet." She signed and opened her phone again. "Maybe he decided to stay with Sonny on some teenage angst-ridden whim."

Jax rolled his eyes while Carly dialed her ex-husband. Sonny answered on the second ring.

"Hello?" Sonny drawled.

"Hey, it's me. Is Michael there?" she asked, cutting straight to the point.

"Nah, he's not here. Why? Is something wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know. He was supposed to home half an hour ago but he's still out and hasn't answered any of my phone calls." Carly sighed.

"Well, whose he out with? Who drove him?"

"Michael drove himself." Carly winced. "I let him take my car."

"Carly, what's the point of taking away his keys if he can just…take someone else's car."

"I know, I know, but he had been behaving so well lately that I thought that I would reward him."

"Okay. But this doesn't bode well for him if he wants to get his car back. You tell him to call me tomorrow. In the mean time, try not to go all crazy and call the police."

"I'll try," said Carly, smiling in spite of herself. She hung up but didn't feel all that much better about the situation. She called Alexis's mobile phone.

"Hello?" Alexis answered, sounding busy and impatient.

"Alexis? This is Carly. I was wondering if I could talk to Kristina for a moment."

"Kristina?" Alexis sounded confused. "Sure, I suppose. What is this all about?"

"I just need to ask her something about Michael."

"Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine. Could I just talk to Kristina for a moment?" Carly's tried to be patient.

There was a minute a silence and then Kristina's voice on the other end of the line. "Mrs. Jacks?"

"Hi, Kristina. I was wondering if Michael mentioned going somewhere after the movie," said Carly, trying to sound cool about the situation.

"Michael didn't go to the movie with us," said Kristina. "He left right after dinner, said he was going home. Why? Is everything all right?"

Carly felt her insides twist with motherly fear but she didn't want Kristina to worry. "Everything is fine. I was just wondering. I'm sorry to bother you. Have a good night." She quickly hung up.

"No luck?" Jax asked. He put an arm around her shoulder.

"Michael didn't even go to the movie," said Carly, biting her lip. "Kristina said that he told her that he was coming home. He should've been home hours ago then."

"Maybe he just went for a drive," said Jax. "He hasn't had a car for a while and maybe he's just trying to milk it for all it's worth. I'm sure he'll be home soon."

"I'm just going to make one more phone call," said Carly. Jax sighed. "Hello, Lulu?"

"Hey, Carly. What's up," Lulu asked. She sounded out of breath.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late on a Friday night but have you seen Michael at all?"

"No, I've been in my apartment all evening. Is something wrong? Is Michael okay?"

"He was supposed to be home 30 minutes ago and he hasn't been returning my calls," Carly explained.

"Oh. Well, he's a teenager. He's probably just being rebellious. Don't you remember being his age?"

"Not really." But Carly didn't feel like mentioning that she hadn't killed her stepmother, who was also the son of a mob boss, at his age. "Well, thanks anyways."

"Tell Michael to call me some time. I hadn't seen him in a while."

Carly promised to pass along the message and hung up. Jax looked at her quizzically. "Well?" he asked.

"I'm giving him another twenty minutes before he also loses his cell phone privileges," said Carly, crossing her arms.

*

Michael woke up feeling as though he had been sleeping for a hundred hours and was groggy. His head pounded which delayed the realization that he was in a situation that resembled a horror movie.

He felt the cold, heavy metal handcuffs around his wrists before anything. Next was the white rope keeping him tied to the back of the chair. The room he was in wasn't completely dark thanks to the moonlight shining through the ceiling windows but he didn't recognize his surroundings. He seemed to be in a cabin of some kind, filled with sheet-covered furniture.

Michael swallowed nervously. "Hello?" he ventured to call out. "Is anybody there?"

The only response he received was the wind whistling outside the window. He pulled against the ropes, hoping to get loose but his binds didn't budge. The door to the cabin suddenly flew open and a figure stood in the doorway. Michael held his breath.

It was the man that had pulled over to help before attacking him. He approached Michael with a happy look on his face. "Good, you're awake. I hope you haven't been waiting too long."

"Who are you?" Michael demanded. "What do you want?"

"Of course I should introduce myself. The name is Franco. Just Franco."

"The artist?" Michael was surprised.

"Oh, so you've heard of me." Franco sounded pleased. "That's a good sign."

"Well, I don't know if you know who I am," said Michael, trying to sound condescending, "but my father is going to be very unhappy when he finds out that I am being kept here against my will and you will be very sorry."

"Well, of course I know who you are," said Franco. "You're Michael Corinthos, son of Carly Jacks and A.J. Quartermaine. You were adopted by Michael 'Sonny' Corinthos. You have a cute younger sister named Kristina and an adorable younger brother named Morgan and a precious baby sister named Josselyn. You recently came out of a coma and you attend Madison Prep. You like rock music and vanilla ice cream."

"No, you're wrong," said Michael. "I don't even eat ice cream. I'm lactose-intolerant. And if you know who I am, then you know that my dad and uncle will find you and when they do, they'll kill you."

"Jason and Sonny? I don't care about them." Franco straightened up and continued to walk in circles around Michael. "Jason is so last week. Michael, you are my new infatuation. I see your potential. You could be the greatest artists that Port Charles-no, the entire state-no, the world has ever known. Behind myself, of course."

"What are you talking about?" Michael asked, frustrated. "I can't draw for crap." He involuntarily pulled back as Franco pulled out a sharp razor.

"You're not acquainted with my work, are you?" Franco smiled. "It's okay. You will be soon enough."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Carly finally decided she had enough of waiting and that she was going to look for Michael on her own.

"Where are you going?" Jax asked as Carly put on her coat.

"I'm going to find Michael," said Carly, bristling with anger. "Who knows what he's out doing right now. I hope he's enjoying himself because he is about to be in a lot of trouble for a very long time." She opened the door and almost ran straight into Lucky who was posed like he was about to knock.

"Hey, sorry for stopping by so late," he said, lowering his hand. "I was just wondering if I could talk to Michael." He noticed that Carly was wearing her coat. "Are you heading out?"

"Michael isn't home right now," Carly informed Lucky. She sounded irritated although it wasn't clear who she was more irritated with: Lucky or Michael. "He is out with my car and I intend to find him and bring him home." She brushed past him.

"Sorry about that," said Jax, approaching the door. "She's just a little upset because of Michael."

"I understand," said Lucky. "Just let Michael know that I stopped by and that I'd really like to talk to him when he has a chance."

Jax hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, sure."

*

Michael was relieved when Franco merely cut the ropes holding him against the chair. He was lifted up by the arm and steered towards a door near the back of the house.

"This isn't the kind of work environment that I prefer but special guests call for special circumstances," said Franco and opened the door. A burst of cold hit them both and Michael shivered. Franco switched on a light which revealed a set of stairs.

Franco pushed Michael forward, who reluctantly descended. He landed on the bottom stepped and looked around.

The walls were covered with photos of crime scenes: blood splatters and bodies with their limbs twisted unnaturally. Besides the photos, all over room was the line 'CO77X.'

"You may have noticed my signature around Port Charles," Franco said proudly.

Michael had seen the tag but didn't want to give Franco the satisfaction. He tried to keep his eyes from wondering over to the crime scene photos but he couldn't help it. The photos were unapologetically graphic and bloody.

"So what do you think?" Franco asked.

"Think of what?" Michael replied.

"My art," Franco said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Brilliant, right? People pay millions of dollars for this stuff."

"This isn't art," Michael scoffed. "These are just photos of crime scenes. Congratulations. You can push a button."

"Hey, don't get smart with me," Franco snapped and roughly yanked Michael around to face him. Michael flinched, seeing a mad glint in Franco's eyes but it disappeared sooner than it came. Franco smiled. "Young Michael, you have much to learn. But we'll start with all of that tomorrow. Let me show you to your room."

Michael made mental notes of the layout of the house as Franco took him to the second story, which was basically a long hallway lined with doors, so that he could plan his escape. "I didn't spare any expense in getting your room ready for you," said Franco, leading him to the room at the very end of the hall.

Franco pushed open the door. Michael felt his entire body tingle with shock and fear. Even in the dark, he could see that it was a replica of the cabin in which he had killed Claudia. He didn't even notice when Franco unlocked the handcuffs and his arms fell like dead weight to his side.

*

Jax was waiting for Carly when she got home. "Did you find him?" he asked.

"I went everywhere," she said, shouldering off her coat and letting it fall on her couch. "I went to Jake's, Kelly's, the Haunted Star, Sonny's restaurant. I even drove by the Quartermaine mansion and looked for my car but nothing. Jax, I'm starting to get really worried. What if he's decided to run away?"

"Now calm down," said Jax, putting his hands on her shoulder. "It's past his curfew but it's still entirely possible that he's just out somewhere in Port Charles, doing what teenagers do when they break curfew. There's no need to jump to the worst case scenario."

"No, worst case scenario would be he drove my car into a ditch and is slowly bleeding to death, unable to call for help." Carly sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"You have that assistance system installed into your car, right?" Jax tried to reason with his wife. "If he's been in an accident, you'll know about it."

"Maybe not a car accident," Carly reluctantly agreed, "but, and don't you dare try to prove a point, Michael is not a normal teenager. His father is the mob boss of Port Charles for crying out loud. I just…" She sat down on the couch. "I'm not going to be able to sleep until I know that he's okay."

*

Michael opened his eyes and he was vaguely aware that he was not in his own bedroom. He sat up and immediately, panic filled him. He remembered the night in pieces: leaving Kelly's, pulling over to the side of the road, waking up in handcuffs, the crime scene photos, and being put into a replica of the cabin which frequently haunted his nightmares.

The room had no windows so it took him a few moments to adjust to the dimness. He had fallen asleep on the couch although he didn't know for how long. He tried to read the face of his watch but there just wasn't enough light.

Footsteps approached and Michael quickly stood up, unsure of what was going to happen. The door opened and Franco stood in the frame, surrounded by a blinding light. "It's time for breakfast," he said, stepping into the room.

Michael stepped back. "I'm not hungry," he replied.

"You'll need the fuel." Franco smiled. "We've got a long day ahead of us."


End file.
